I'd Have Never Believed
by Menecarkawan
Summary: HPB Spoilers.. After the final battle, Harry goes back to Hogwarts with an eye to having a bit of fun. A prank war ensues between Harry and Draco, but somewhere along the line, a prank goes wrong and Draco must face the consequences of his actions. Will
1. Let the Great Prank War Begin

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters contained herein. The plot, however, is all mine. No money is being made from the writing of this Fanfiction. I wrote purely for your, and my, entertainment.**

**Summary: After the final battle, Harry goes back to Hogwarts with an eye to having a bit of fun. A prank war ensues between Harry and Draco, but somewhere along the line, a prank goes wrong and Draco must face the consequences of his actions. Will be SLASH.**

**Warning: This story will eventually be SLASH, though not right away. This means it shall contain a homosexual relationship between two males. If you are a homophobe, I strongly suggest that you do not read this. This story also contains spoilers for Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. If you have not read it, then I once again suggest that you bypass this fic. Flames will be ignored.**

**Author's Note: I am attempting a comeback here, people. If anyone wants a reposting of any deleted stories, I shall consider it, but know this: Some of the stories have been deleted off of my computer and are irretrievable. However, if someone has a particular story saved on their computer that has not been finished, I shall consider finishing it. That is not to say that my muse will flare with inspiration on any unfinished fics. I feel I must thank all of my devoted fans who have stuck with me through trial and error as I've improved my writing for your reading enjoyment. Your encouragement and loyalty has made this fic possible. With that said, I hope you enjoy.**

**One final note: there is no beta-reader for this fic. If you have good grammar, a firm grasp of the English language and would like to beta read this fic, please send me an email at Menecarkawan aol .com. Your help will be highly appreciated.**

**Yours Sincerely,**

**Menecarkawan**

**I'd Have Never Believed**

**Chapter One**

**Let the Great Prank War Begin…**

Harry Potter was on his knees, panting, holding a bruised and bloodied Severus Snape firmly in his grasp, terrified the man would die. Harry's eyes were glazed as he stared blankly at the carnage before him. He saw none of it as his mind mercifully shut down and delivered him to the peaceful darkness.

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The next thing to penetrate his consciousness was too much light, bright light. He squinted against it and turned his head away in an attempt at escape.

"I think he's waking," a familiar voice said nearby.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and then another voice spoke. "Harry?" it asked. "Can you hear me?"

A pain like electric shock lanced through Harry's heart and a small sob escaped. He'd finally gone mad. After all he had been through, it took becoming a murderer to finally break him.

"Albus, something is wrong," the first voice declared. "This is foolishness. If you'd just let me-"

"It is too dangerous, even now," the dead man's voice cut in.

"Surely-"

"_No_, Severus."

Harry moaned in emotional pain, too frightened to open his eyes, but too curious to drift away again. He wasn't mad then. He had to be dead, for he knew both of these men were. He couldn't protect them. He opened his eyes.

"Harry, at last," Albus Dumbledore smiled down at him. "I was seriously considering calling for help."

Off to the side, partially hidden in the shadows, stood Professor Severus Snape, his arms crossed over his chest and the visible portion his face hidden behind a curtain of black hair.

"What is this place?" Harry asked, shifting his eyes back to Dumbledore.

"Trust this boy to not be surprised at seeing you alive, Albus," Snape sneered maliciously.

Harry's heart sank faster than a drowning child being pulled down by grindylows. He wasn't dead and nor was he mad. He'd been hoping to see Sirius and his parents.

"That is _enough_, Severus," Dumbledore snapped, sounding impatient. Snape wisely chose to sink deeper into the shadows without further comment.

"I'd thought I'd died," Harry remarked softly, unsure of why he'd made the admission, but needing to make it nonetheless.

"You are very much alive, my dear boy," Dumbledore said gently. "As am I." He chuckled lightly.

"How?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively. "Let's not worry about all of that right now."

Harry shrugged indifferently. "What happened?" he asked.

"You won, child."

"No, I didn't."

"Voldemort is nothing more than a bad memory now. You did it."

"It wasn't enough," Harry murmured, turning away from those sad blue eyes. "So many killed. So many. It was never enough." With that sad statement, Harry slipped back into the darkness.

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Harry's return to Hogwarts that September, with Dumbledore, Snape and Draco Malfoy in tow, caused a sensation. Madame Pomfrey actually passed out from the shock of it all and had to be revived with smelling salts. Malfoy looked unusually shy and nervous, Dumbledore was twinkling gaily, and Snape looked as impassive as ever, though he was being gaped at more than the rest. Harry took it all in his stride as he always had.

Harry was glad to be back; in spite of all, Hogwarts would always feel like home to him. How could he ever have considered not returning?

Hermione and Ron ran to him through the crowd of shocked onlookers, pulling him into a bone crushing three-way embrace that knocked the air from his lungs, but still made him smile. He turned his head, looking at the pale visage of Malfoy, standing there, looking so unsure of himself. Harry had only one thought before entering the Great Hall for the welcoming feast: _Let the Great Prank War begin._

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Draco was infuriated. He stormed into the Slytherin common room, which fell silent as soon as he entered. "Oh, so you think Potter's funny, do you?" he snarled at them.

"Well, you have to admit," Pansy said delicately. "You'd be laughing if it was someone else he did that to."

"You are most unhelpful, Pansy, thank you," Draco snapped at the irritating blonde. Potter had gone too far this time, and Draco meant to pay him back. Looking at his pink hands, his anger flared anew. How _dare_ he? That Gryffindor wretch would regret this!

"…and he was holding on for dear life because his broom was flying on its own, spelling out 'Dwaco woves Quidditch' in great big pink letters!" a first year was whispering to her friends. The small group burst into giggles.

"Arrrggghh!" Draco exclaimed angrily, throwing his hands in the air. The whole room burst into gales of laughter as Draco stormed into his dorm room. No respect! Oh, Potter was going to pay, and Draco knew just what to do. Potter would never live it down.

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"Harry, that was really dangerous," Hermione chided at breakfast the day after his amazing prank. It hadn't been, really. It was just supposed to seem that way, which it did, but now he had to explain as much to Hermione.

"He wouldn't have fallen off," he said patiently. "I made sure it was safe. Just because _he_ didn't know it, doesn't mean it wasn't so. I'm not a…" but he stopped abruptly and walked away from them. He'd almost said _'I'm not a murderer'_, but that was a lie. He _was_ a murderer and it pained him to think of it. They'd followed him, of course.

Now, however, Harry was thinking perhaps it _had_ been dangerous after all. Not for Malfoy, but for Harry. It had been three weeks, and still Malfoy had not retaliated. Harry knew that whatever Malfoy was planning, it was going to be big. Very big. _Huge._ _Enormous_, even. He was starting to feel nervous about it, though he couldn't say that he regretted starting this war. He hadn't had so much fun in years.

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast with a strong sense of foreboding. He noticed Malfoy's absence from the Slytherin table and knew the retaliatory prank would occur sometime today. He'd decide what to do about it after he finished his porridge with treacle. Hermione and Ron sat across from him with worried expressions just as Malfoy sauntered in looking very pleased with himself. Harry gulped.

Hermione followed his gaze and asked, "Do you think it will be today? He seems terribly smug all of a sudden."

"That's just what-" But he never finished because at that moment he was swallowed in a thick cloud of purple smoke. Across the room, Draco Malfoy smirked and pretended to be shocked right along with everyone else.

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Hermione didn't see the appearance of the purple smoke because she was still watching Malfoy when it happened, but she certainly heard the boom it made. She spun around quickly, crying, "Harry!" as she went. The cloud began to dissipate and where Harry's head had been, there was now nothing but air. Ron was sputtering and waving his hands in front of his face.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed.

Hermione stood up, thinking that Harry must have fallen on the floor, but she found something much more disturbing. A little boy with bright green eyes was watching her with the expression of someone expecting to wake up at any moment. "Harry?" she asked incredulously. Certainly this couldn't be Malfoy's prank? What would be the point?

The little boy looked even more astonished now, but he remained silent.

"Harry, say something," Hermione begged, everyone in the Hall waiting with baited breath.

"How do you know my name?" child Harry asked in his tiny child's voice.

Hermione was trying to figure out what to say when McGonagall swooped down like an overprotective mother eagle and demanded, "What is going on here?"

Hermione simply stared at her professor helplessly, unable to form any kind of response.

"Well?" the formidable professor asked, looking imperiously around at all of the shell-shocked students. Neville numbly pointed at Harry and McGonagall started in surprise when her eyes landed on the child.

"Mr. Potter?" she asked incredulously.

"Hey, you know my name too!" he said, sounding rather excited. Several people chuckled nervously and Harry seemed to become aware of all of the people looking at him, abruptly lowering his eyes to the floor.

McGonagall rounded on Hermione. "How did this happen?" she demanded, her lips pressed thinner than Hermione had ever seen them, nearly making McGonagall look as though she had no lips at all.

"I… I don't know, Professor," Hermione finally managed to stammer. "He was just eating his breakfast-"

McGonagall whirled toward the table, picking up Harry's bowl and goblet. "Mr. Weasley, go and find Professor Snape and bring him to Headmaster Dumbledore's office. Ms. Granger, take Harry's hand and follow me." She turned on her heal, bowl and goblet held out in front of her like dirty linens, and stalked out of the Hall, Hermione scrambling to get Harry and catch up.

"Am I dreaming?" Harry asked as she carried him behind McGonagall.

"No," she replied.

"Oh," Harry said. He was quiet after that, something Hermione was grateful for because following an angry Minerva McGonagall was not easy.

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Harry's young eyes were taking in everything they passed. He was worried that it might all disappear as quickly as it had arrived. He didn't ask any more questions because the girl with the bushy hair seemed angry with him. He didn't mean to ask if he was dreaming, it just popped out before he could stop it. He hadn't meant to make her mad.

The green lady was walking very fast so that the girl with the bushy hair nearly had to run to keep up. Harry was glad she was carrying him because they seemed to be going an awful long way.

He was afraid of this place disappearing because Auntie 'Tunia was going to be mad that he left without finishing his chores. He was sure to be sent to his cupboard without dinner, and he was ever so hungry. Maybe the girl with the bushy hair would give him something to eat if he was good and kept quiet.

They finally stopped, but Harry didn't know why. Maybe the grown ups were tired. He knew _he'd_ be tired after going such a long way so fast. They were in a long corridor, by a statue of a very strange creature. It was a frightening sort of animal and Harry wished they'd move soon because he didn't like looking at it.

"Fizzing Wizbees," the green lady said.

Harry's eyes became very round when the statue came to life and moved to the side, revealing a big escapator made of rock. It was moving up and up in little circles, and the grown ups went up these stairs just as quickly as they'd gone up the corridor with the live statue. There was a wood door at the top with a metal lion head on it. The green lady knocked.

"Enter," said a man's voice on the other side.

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They went into the office when invited, finding Dumbledore sitting behind his desk.

"Funny, how much paperwork there is when you come back from the dead," he said mildly, making a few more jots with his quill before looking up. "Minerva! And Ms. Granger! What a lovely surprise! And who is this young man?"

The child in question swallowed before speaking. "Harry Potter, sir," he mumbled shyly.

Dumbledore's eyebrows went up and he looked to McGonagall. "Perhaps you should explain what happened," he said.

"He was eating breakfast," McGonagall said tartly. "There was a bang and a cloud of smoke and when it cleared, Harry was like this."

Dumbledore's eyes turned back to Hermione. "Do you know how this happened?"

Hermione shook her head, still more bewildered than she'd ever been in her life.

"Am I to assume that this is Mr. Potter's breakfast?" Dumbledore asked, gesturing to the bowl and goblet McGonagall had placed on his desk upon entering.

"Yes," McGonagall replied crisply.

"And do we have any idea who might have done this?"

Hermione felt relieved to be asked a question she could answer at last. "I think it might have been Draco Malfoy, sir," she said.

"And what draws you to that conclusion, Ms. Granger?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.

"Well, Harry and Malfoy have been pranking each other since the beginning of this year," Hermione said. "Harry's last prank was a bit…"

"'Over the top', I believe is the phrase you are searching for, Ms. Granger," Snape said, entering the office without knocking. His eyes landed on Harry, but he spoke to Dumbledore. "You summoned me, Headmaster?"

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore said as though he'd been expecting Snape all the time. "Just the man."

Snape's expression darkened as he turned at last to look at Dumbledore.

"I believe you know our young Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the little boy in Hermione's arms. He'd started to tremble slightly, but he didn't lower his eyes when Snape's snapped back in his direction.

"'Lo," Harry said quietly.

Snape's eyes narrowed before his hand came up and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is going to end with me losing my free time, I just know it," he muttered.

Hermione stared at him in disbelief unable to comprehend how that was the only thing he had to say. "Erm, sir?" she said hesitantly.

Snape lowered his hand before raising an eyebrow in question.

"I wondered if you know what potion did this," Hermione said, very proud of herself when her voice didn't waver.

"There are several potions that could have this effect," Snape replied, his voice thoughtful. " I would have to test the boy's blood to know which one was used."

Harry shrank back when Snape said 'the boy', but other than that, he was perfectly calm.

"Fortunately, that won't be necessary, as we have Harry's breakfast right here," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling madly. "I'd hoped you wouldn't mind having a look at it."

"As if I could say no," Snape muttered, mostly to himself. Louder, he said, "Of course, Headmaster. I shall try to have results by tomorrow if I can."

Dumbledore clapped his hands together happily. "Good, good! Now, what to do with Harry until then?"

"I'll watch him," Hermione offered, giving Harry a small reassuring smile.

"You have classes, Ms. Granger," McGonagall said.

"I'll give Harry something to draw on or something while I'm in class," Hermione said stubbornly.

"A very good idea!" Dumbledore agreed before McGonagall could say anything.

McGonagall, for her part, covered her surprise very well. After staring at Dumbledore for a moment in dumbfounded shock, she said, "As you wish, Albus."

"That's settled then!" Dumbledore exclaimed, twinkling at Harry for a moment. "We'll convene here after classes tomorrow to see what Severus finds out." Hermione knew a dismissal when she heard one, so she left the office with Harry still in her arms.

"Where we goin?" Harry asked after a moment.

"To class," Hermione replied gently.

"Is this a school?" Harry asked.

"It sure is," Hermione said.

"What's your name?"

"Hermione."

Harry scrunched up his face. "Her-my-knee?" he asked.

Hermione smiled. "Close enough."

Harry giggled. "I like you."

Hermione stopped walking so she could look at him. "I like you too, Harry." She started walking again, thinking Harry might nap during History of Magic.

"Her-my-knee?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Harry?" Hermione replied.

"How'd I get here?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't know, Harry," she said. "I think it was a potion."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

Hermione considered how best to answer that. "Well, it's a mixture of ingredients that cause a magical effect."

"Magic?"

"Hm-hmm."

"Uncle Vewnon says magic's not real."

"Well, he's wrong then, isn't he?"

"You learn magic here?"

"I sure do."

"Her-my-knee?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What does 'ingwedent' mean?"

Hermione was starting to wonder just what she'd gotten herself into.


	2. Pansy and the Problem Potion

_Disclaimer: I do not own the characters contained herein. The plot, however, is all mine. No money is being made from the writing of this Fan fiction. I wrote purely for your, and my, entertainment._

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter of this fic. It really means a lot to mean. Thanks also to SeparatriX for taking the time to beta read for me. She makes it more bearable for all of you. Now, on with the tale!**

**Chapter Two**

**Pansy and the Problem Potion.**

Draco wasn't feeling very confident about this being summoned business. In fact, he knew no good could come of this meeting. _What right did Dumbledore have to summon him anywhere_? Draco grumbled, conveniently forgetting that the old man was headmaster of Hogwarts. Moreover, to make matters worse, his brilliant plan to get Harry to see the 'real him', as it were, was not going off quite as he'd planned. The ultimate revenge with a bit of a perk for him. It couldn't have been simpler… except he hadn't been able to get near Harry since breakfast the previous day. _Damn._ And one more thing: What the hell kind of password is 'Fizzing Whizbee' anyway? Dumbledore was most definitely off his rocker.

Draco was dragging his feet, and he knew it, he just couldn't seem to help himself. Dumbledore's office was looming before him like the hungry maw of some unspeakable beast, and Draco really didn't want to know what was on the inside. He had no choice in the matter, however, so with a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

"Come in, Mr. Malfoy!" Dumbledore called cheerily from the other side of the door.

Draco scowled disdainfully at the heavy wood before opening the damnable thing, only to stop short on the threshold. Dumbledore might have mentioned that half the bloody school would be sitting in at this meeting.

"Ah, Draco, right on time," the barmy old codger said pleasantly, gesturing toward a seat next to, of all people, Hermione 'Know-It-All' Granger. He might have known that she'd be the one to implicate him in this mess. With hindsight, perhaps he hadn't thought his plan out very well after all.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster," Draco said politely, parking himself in the indicated chair, doing his best not to roll his eyes at Granger's huff. When would the little chit learn that Malfoys never admit to anything? He'd be damned if he'd take the blame for the adorable little boy sitting in her lap, even if he _did_ put the potion in Potter's porridge. Speaking of… said adorable boy was staring at him intently. Draco found himself wondering if Potter was a telepath briefly before dismissing the idea as preposterous. Talk about paranoia. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in that irritating way that they do. Draco wondered if it wasn't some kind of spell. "I'm sure you're aware of the happenings from yesterday morning?"

Draco bowed his head to show he knew what the old man was talking about.

"Very good. Now, I've had Professor Snape," the man in question sneered unpleasantly, "looking over young Harry's breakfast, and I'm pleased to say we now know the potion that was used."

"Forgive me, sir, but what does this have to do with me?" Draco knew he was all innocence and confusion. At least his father had taught him _something _useful. Granger snorted derisively next to him.

"As you are well aware, Mr. Malfoy," Snape groused from his darkened corner, "with enough information it is possible to tell who brewed a potion. I know the magical signature of every student in this school."

'_Well, I'm well and truly fucked now,'_ Draco thought. He hadn't counted on that little fact. It had completely slipped his mind, in fact. "Sir?" he asked, trying to keep his composure.

"May I ask _why_ you felt the need to turn Harry into a five-year-old child?" McGonagall questioned from the opposite side of the room. Draco felt as though he was surrounded by hungry predators.

He decided to give up his innocent act. They already knew he did it. They had proof, damn it all! "It was a joke," he said. "You know, funny, ha ha?"

Granger couldn't seem to control herself any longer. "A joke?" she exploded, albeit quietly to keep from frightening Harry. "You think it's funny to make him relive his entire childhood, do you?"

Draco was completely confused by that statement. "What?" he yelped, jumping from his seat and moving away from the wretch. "What are you talking about?"

Granger glared at him dangerously, those abominable wheels in her head turning. "You have no idea what potion you used, do you?" she asked in a very low and dangerous tone. In his dark corner, Snape snorted inelegantly.

"Of course I do!" Draco retorted indignantly. "I'm not a bloody Hufflepuff, am I!"

"If everyone would please calm down," Dumbledore said firmly from his seat behind his desk. His eyes hadn't stopped twinkling once in this entire conversation. Once Draco was again seated next to the 'insufferable know-it-all', Dumbledore asked, "What potion did you use, Draco?"

"It was a temporary de-aging potion, to make Potter here a five-year-old for two days time," Draco replied, throwing a look in Granger's direction that said 'I told you', and not caring at all how childish that might seem. He was about to make a scathing remark regarding her intelligence when he was startled into silence by a child crawling into his lap. Much to his amusement, everyone else seemed just as surprised as he was. He held his arms away from him as though afraid of being maimed.

"What's your name?" mini-Potter asked, once he'd made himself comfortable on Draco's lap. The damnable headmaster had the audacity to look amused.

"Draco," Draco replied through his shock.

Mini-Potter giggled, his nose scrunching up in the cutest fashion. "I like you," he announced.

"Oh goody," Draco drawled, pulling another giggle from the little imp.

"Where did you get the recipe for this potion?" Snape asked suddenly. Draco looked towards him.

"I will not rat out my informant," he said, managing to keep a straight face. Pansy had obviously fucked up, if Snape's expression was anything to go by.

"Perhaps you should consider it," Snape said, his voice soft or, as any other person would call it, dangerously low. "Your… _informant_ managed to procure the wrong recipe for you."

"W-w-wrong recip-pe?" Draco stammered, not even noticing when mini-Potter started playing with the silver fastenings on his robes.

"Indeed," Snape practically purred. Draco began to seriously fear for his life. "The potion you fed to Potter was not, as you believed, a temporary de-aging potion, but a _permanent_ de-aging potion, for which there is no known antidote."

"This is pretty," mini-Potter chose this moment to say. Everyone chuckled. Everyone, that is, except for Draco, who had gone astonishingly pale, and Snape, whose eyes were narrowed dangerously.

"P-p-permane-nent?" Draco stuttered. He looked at the child in his lap, who seemed to be trying to memorise the shape of the fastenings. Draco realised that he was still holding his arms out like an idiot, and so placed them on the arms of the chair instead, still steadfastly refusing to touch mini-Potter.

"Yes, Draco, permanent," Snape replied silkily, only adding to Draco's dread.

Draco gulped. "Erm… oops?" he said intelligently. Next to him, Granger snorted her disgust. Oh, he was going to _kill_ Pansy when he next saw her! Assuming, of course, that he survived through this little meeting. Between Granger and Snape, he wasn't sure which way his death was coming. So much for his oh so brilliant plan. "So… er… now what?"

"Now what, indeed, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore agreed, a little too happily, in Draco's opinion. "His relatives have made it abundantly clear that they do not wish him back after this year. It seems we have a dilemma."

Harry's tiny hands stilled at the mention of his relatives. He turned large, almost frightened eyes up to Draco before turning to Dumbledore. "Pr'fessor?" he said timidly.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at him. "Yes, Harry?" he asked.

"Are you sending me back to Auntie 'Tunia?" Harry asked.

"No, Harry," Dumbledore replied. "We're going to find someone else to take care of you." For some reason, Dumbledore looked significantly into Draco's eyes, giving Draco a decidedly unpleasant feeling in his stomach.

"'Kay," Harry agreed, going back to his inspection of Draco's fastenings.

"I suppose you've found someone to take him in then?" Draco asked hopefully.

"Indeed we have, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, giving Draco the impression that this had all been decided before he'd even been summoned up here.

He gulped. "Oh. Well that's good then. Who is it?" He tried to keep the dread from his voice, and almost succeeded. Almost.

"You," Snape replied from his corner. McGonagall sniffed indignantly, as though she thought this extremely unwise. Draco agreed with her.

"Me?" His eyes darted wildly from Dumbledore, to McGonagall, and finally Snape, who gave him a derogatory look.

"Yes, you. As you are the one who decided to turn Potter into this… _adorable_ little child, it is only reasonable that you care for him until he can be restored to his original age." Only Snape could make the word 'adorable' sound like a disgusting swear word. Draco had heard people say 'fuck' with more reverence.

"You can restore him, then?" Draco asked, allowing hope to flare anew.

"Professor Snape has agreed to attempt to create a counter for this potion," Dumbledore replied. Two words stood out in that sentence, _attempt_ being the most ominous, and _create_ being the most obvious. Never in Draco's life had anything blown up in his face so spectacularly. "As this could take quite some time, we need a binding oath from you that you will care for Harry until such time as his age can be restored, taking into to consideration that this may stretch beyond the end of the school year."

Draco swallowed. That didn't seem to work, so he swallowed again. After a third attempt, he said, "Yes, sir." It seemed that he'd just been forced into being the 'dad' of a boy he'd wanted to date. _Fat chance of that happening now_, he thought bitterly. Even if they restored Potter quickly, he'd most likely be cursing the day he'd ever met Draco Malfoy.

Dumbledore seemed rather surprised at his easy acceptance of this ultimatum, but Draco was never one to run away from the consequences of his actions. Certainly, he might twist them around to better suit his needs (case in point, the hippogriff incident in third year), but he didn't run away from them. He could see no way out of this mess.

"Well, that's settled then," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands merrily. "Harry will have to go to your classes with you, so I suggest you find a few items with which he might amuse himself while you study. Off you go!"

Everyone got up to leave. Everyone that is, except for Draco, who was still pinned by a very curious child.

"Harry is our friend, Malfoy," Granger said sharply, standing to loom over him like some eerie fortress of death. "Ron and I have a right to visit with him. If you-"

"I'm not going to stop him visiting with you, Granger," Draco interrupted smoothly without looking at her. He was too busy trying to figure out a way to get Harry off his lap without touching him.

"Good," Granger snapped. She lifted Harry up and kissed his cheek. "Be good," she said in a decidedly friendlier tone of voice. "Ron and I will see you soon, okay?"

"'Kay," Harry agreed readily. He seemed to be soaking up all of this attention. Draco snorted. Typical.

He decided to stand before Granger decided to deposit the imp back in his lap. She set Potter on the floor. He immediately grabbed Draco's hand and refused to let it go. Draco grimaced. Not for the first time today, Draco wondered just what in the seven circles of hell he'd been thinking when he came up with this little plan.

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Harry didn't like it when people shouted at each other, mostly because it was usually him they were shouting at, and in the end he was always locked in his cupboard. With this in mind, he carefully stayed out of the way as Draco shouted at the yellow haired girl he'd called 'Pansy'. Harry didn't know why Draco would call her that. He'd never seen anything that looked less like a pansy.

"Did you even look at the bloody potion before you copied it out!" Draco shouted at the girl, who seemed to be cowering away from him in fright.

"The de-aging potion," Pansy muttered. "I read it all through, just like you said to."

"You ignorant twat! I said _temporary_ de-aging potion! Temporary, not bloody permanent! He could be stuck like this forever because of you!"

Harry wondered what 'twat' meant, but didn't think he should ask just then. Pansy started to cry.

"I'm sorry!" she said. "You shouldn't have had me do it! You know I'm hopeless in Potions!"

"I bloody well figured you could read!" Draco turned away from her. "Come on, Harry!" he snapped.

Harry was at his side in an instant, afraid of making him madder. He liked Draco better when he wasn't mad. He decided that being quiet was his best way of avoiding punishment. They went down a few stairs before coming to a stop in front of a door, which Draco stared at for a minute before opening. Inside was a big room, with a big bed on one side and a smaller bed on the other. There were a few tables and things around as well, but Harry didn't pay much attention to those. His eyes caught sight of the toys next to the little bed and stayed there. He wondered if there were any other little boys around.

"Figures," Draco muttered, stomping into the room and slamming the door behind him. "Special accommodations for everyone's favorite saviour."

Harry had no idea what that meant, but decided not to ask. Draco still seemed quite angry to him. "Draco?" he said tentatively.

"What?" Draco snapped.

Harry backed away, tears coming into his eyes, in spite of his attempts to stop them. He said nothing.

Draco heaved a sigh and ran his hand over his face. "I'm sorry," he said, more gently. "Come here, I'm not mad at you."

Harry slowly crossed to Draco, who was sitting on the big bed, and took the offered hand. Draco pulled Harry up into his lap.

"Why you so mad, Draco?" Harry asked.

"She made a bad mistake, Harry," Draco replied. "I'm not mad at you, I promise."

Harry nodded. He looked around the room and pointed at a large wardrobe. "Is that where I sleep?"

Draco stared at him, then he stared at the wardrobe, and then he stared at _him_ some more. "Why would you sleep in there?" he asked.

Harry was confused. It looked kind of like his cupboard at Uncle Vernon's house. "It looks like my cupboard," he said, his brow furrowed. "I bet I could fit." He wriggled off Draco's lap and made his way over, opening the wardrobe with difficulty. He lay down on the floor. "See?" he said, stretching his arms out to show how well he fit.

Draco came over and lifted Harry back out of the wardrobe, closing the door with a frown on his face. "You sleep in a cupboard?" he asked.

Harry nodded.

"Why?" Draco asked, sitting back down on the big bed.

"There's no room for me," Harry replied.

"No room?"

Harry shook his head. "Auntie 'Tunia and Uncle Vernon have the big room, and Dudders has the next one and the next one if for Dudders' things, 'cause they don't fit in his first room, and the last one is for Auntie Marge when she comes over."

Draco was staring at him again. Harry lowered his eyes. He didn't like to be stared at.

"Who is Dudders?" Draco asked.

"My cousin," Harry replied, scrunching his nose up in distaste. "He picks on me."

Draco was still staring at him. "You don't have to sleep in a cupboard here," he said after a long time.

Harry didn't know what to say, and so said nothing.

"That bed there is for you," Draco went on, pointing at the small bed. It was much bigger than the cupboard under the stairs.

"Really?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded. "And it's about time we both went to sleep."

"I'm not tired," Harry said, yawning right after.

Draco smiled at him. "Of course you're not. Unfortunately, young boys need their rest to grow big and strong."

Harry scrunched up his nose. "What's 'unfortanaly'?" he asked.

Draco smiled again. "Un-for-tu-net-ly," he said slowly. "It means that it's not something you want, but it has to happen anyway."

"Oh," Harry said, thinking about it. He decided he liked that word. "Un-for-tu-net-ly," he pronounced carefully.

"Very good," Draco praised.

Harry felt a swell of pride in his chest and he beamed. No one'd ever said that to him before.

Draco picked him up and walked to a door, opening it to peek inside. It was the biggest bathroom Harry had ever seen. "Right," Draco said. "Brush your teeth." He handed Harry a blue toothbrush with the same creature on it that was on Draco's shiny buttons. He placed Harry on the floor.

"Draco?" he asked.

Draco looked down at him. "Yes?"

"What's this?" Harry asked, pointing at the animal.

Draco quirked an eyebrow at him, looking a bit surprised. "That's a dragon," he said.

"Oh," Harry replied, looking down at it. He liked it. It was cool. "How come you got 'em on your shirt?"

"These are robes, Harry," Draco corrected. "My name is Latin for dragon."

"What's 'Latin'?"

"It's another language."

"Oh."

Draco bent and applied toothpaste to Harry's brush.

"Draco?"

"No more questions right now, Harry," Draco said. "Brush your teeth."

"'Kay," Harry said, placing the brush in his mouth and beginning to scrub. After they'd both finished, Draco led Harry back into the bedroom. "Draco?"

"Yes?"

"How come your name isn't just dragon instead?"

"Draco is more impressive." Draco pulled back the covers on the small bed and tucked Harry in.

"What's 'impressive'?"

Draco sighed before sitting on the edge of the bed. "It means that people like it better."

"Oh."

"Goodnight, Harry," Draco said, kissing his forehead. He waved his stick (wand, Harry reminded himself) and the lights went out.

"'Night, Draco," Harry said, his eyes already closing.

_Harry could hear people screaming. There was a lady, and she sounded scared. After that, someone was laughing, but it wasn't a nice laugh. It made Harry want to cry. Then there was a bright green light…_

Harry sat straight up in bed, his heart pounding. He was breathing hard, so he tried to stop before he woke up Draco. Auntie 'Tunia always got mad at him if he screamed after a bad dream. He didn't want Draco to be mad at him. He liked Draco. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, sure that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.

His eyes went around the room, taking everything in that he could see. A lot of it was fuzzy, but that was nothing new. He never could see things clearly. His eyes snapped to the big bed when he heard Draco groan. Draco sat up and rubbed his eyes.

**_IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB IHNB_**

Draco sat rubbing his eyes for a long moment, wondering what had woken him up. He looked around the room and saw Harry sitting up in bed, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Harry?" he asked delicately.

"I'm sorry," Harry said at once.

Draco frowned. "What for?"

"I didn't mean to wake you up. I'll go back to sleep now, I promise."

Draco's frown deepened and he stared intently at Harry. There was something going on here that he was missing, or perhaps, had been missing but was seeing now very clearly. "Did you have a bad dream?" he asked in the gentlest voice he could muster. It was somewhat difficult, however, as a picture was beginning to form in his mind. This picture was of terrible, scaly, horned beasts with massive claws and sharp fangs that were drooling over the prospect of Harry suffering. It was the picture Draco's mind conjured whenever he thought of Harry's relatives. Outwardly, he noticed that Harry was nodding reluctantly. "Come here, then," Draco said.

Harry swallowed nervously but obeyed without question. He crawled up into Draco's bed and then sat with his back facing Draco, removing his pajama top with tiny, shaking fingers.

Draco scowled, well aware of what this meant. However, he still asked, "What are you doing?"

Harry's shoulders were tense and his head was lowered. Draco studied the small, pale back before him. He was infuriated when he saw that, not only was Harry's spine clearly visible underneath his skin, but his ribs were as well. Fortunately, (more for Harry's relatives than anyone else) there was no visible scarring that Draco could see.

"I tried to be quiet," Harry murmured, and his voice sounded suspiciously strained.

Draco touched Harry's shoulder gently, and forced himself not to pull away when the little boy flinched violently at that. He turned Harry around and, with a deep sigh at the sight of Harry tears, pulled him close. Harry began sobbing violently as soon as Draco's arms closed around him.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, clutching Draco's nightshirt in his small fists. "I didn't mean it!"

"Hush now," Draco cooed gently, rubbing comforting circles on the child's back. "It's all right. I'm not angry."

Draco kept this up until Harry's tears slowed and then stopped. Harry leaned back to look at him. "You're not mad at me?" he asked, his eyes wide and amazed, if somewhat unfocused.

Draco shook his head, gently pushing Harry's hair away from his face. "Why would I be mad?" he asked.

Harry lowered his face. "Auntie 'Tunia doesn't like it when I wake her up," he whispered.

Draco frowned again thoughtfully. Surely Harry's beast of an aunt wouldn't punish the boy for having bad dreams? "Well, I'm not Auntie 'Tunia," he said.

"How come you want me up here, then?" Harry asked, snuggling close to Draco's body and tucking his legs up under him.

"So you don't have to sleep by yourself," Draco replied. "You can stay right here, and I'll keep those dreams away."

Harry looked up at him again. "I can sleep up here with you?"

Draco nodded. "Of course you can. Everyone has bad dreams. Sometimes it helps to have someone to tell them to."

Harry began trembling slightly. "There was a lot of screaming," he said. "There was this lady, and she sounded scared, and then someone laughed, but it made me feel scared instead of happy and then there was all this green light…" He trailed off.

Draco's blood ran cold has he listened to Harry describe what little his child's mind had retained of his mother's last moments on Earth. He swallowed. "You want me to read you a bedtime story?" he asked.

"Bedtime story?" Harry repeated blankly.

"I'll show you," Draco replied. He pulled his wand from under his pillow, pointing it toward the bookcase. "_Accio_ story book!" A thin book came flying off the shelf and into his hand.

Harry clapped his hands enthusiastically. "Do it again!" he cried happily.

Draco smiled indulgently. "There will be plenty of magic for you to see tomorrow," he said. He arranged them so that they were both comfortable and began reading. "_Under the hedge by a big green field stood a tiny shop called: 'Edwin Beetle & Son, jewelers.' _" He finished most of the story before he realised that Harry had dozed off. He knew that he wouldn't be falling asleep so easily, his mind far too troubled by what he'd learned since bringing Harry here to be able to shut down and rest.

**_Note: The line of bedtime story is from _**The Royal Jewelers **_in Shirley Barber's _**Fairy Collection.


	3. Magical Day

**Author's Note: I'd like to offer a huge apology for making you all wait so long for this chapter. I had a bit of writer's block concerning Draco's conversation with Dumbledore, but I'm over it now (obviously). Much thanks to Katy for her excellent work on this chapter.

* * *

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**Chapter Three**

**Magical Day**

**ONE**

Draco was anything but ready to face this conversation, but he knew it had to be done. If anything, it would give him a valid reason to rage at Dumbledore. He waited until Harry was dressed before making his first move. "Sit on the bed, here, Harry," he said, kneeling in front of the little boy to have a better view.

Harry sat down on the edge of his bed, ringing his hands nervously. "Is something a matter?" he asked.

Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm himself. "I need to ask you something very important."

" 'Kay."

"You must answer truthfully, okay?"

"What's that mean?"

Draco reached out and gently held Harry's hands. "It means you can't lie and you can't leave anything out. I promise that I'm not mad at you."

" 'Kay."

"Okay," Draco said, taking another deep breath. "When you have a nightmare at Auntie 'Tunia's house, what does she do?"

Harry swallowed. "She gets mad at me," he said, his tiny child's voice sounding even smaller. "But only when I wake her up."

"And what does she do when she gets mad?"

Harry's eyes were very round and he looked frightened.

"No one is going to hurt you here, Harry," Draco assured him. "I just need to know what she does."

"She… she hits me," Harry whispered, dropping his head.

Draco felt like the most terrible person alive, but he pressed on regardless. "With her hand?"

Harry shook his head.

"What does she hit you with, Harry?"

"A hanger," Harry replied quietly.

A flood of rage made itself known inside of Draco, but he forced himself to remain calm, lest he frighten Harry. "What kind of hanger?" he asked, proud of himself when his voice sounded normal and kind.

Harry shrugged but said nothing. Draco reached out to pick him up, pretending not to notice when Harry flinched. Once he had Harry secure on his hip, Draco went to the wardrobe, opening it and pointing at the hangers inside. "Show me which one she used."

Harry's eyes came up reluctantly. He pointed at one of the empty wire hangers.

"A wire hanger?" Draco asked, removing one from the wardrobe and placing Harry on the floor.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

"How did she hold it, Harry?" Draco asked. He held the hanger by the corner so that the flat part was parallel with the floor. "Like this?"

Harry shook his head. "No." He held out his hand. Once Draco had given him the hanger, he turned it around, placing it against Draco's chest. He was holding it so that the whole of the hanger touched Draco, not just one part. "Like this. She makes me take off my shirt and then she hits my back with it like this."

Draco took the hanger back, a deep frown marring his face, and placed it back inside the wardrobe. He placed Harry back on his hip, smiling gently. "You did very well, Harry," he said. "Thank you for telling me."

"Is something bad gonna happen to Auntie 'Tunia, Draco?" Harry asked seriously.

"Maybe," Draco replied. "I'm not sure what will happen."

"Don't hurt her," Harry requested. "I was bad. I'm apposed to be good and not wake anybody up, but I did it anyways."

Draco looked at Harry sternly. "I need you to understand something. No matter what you do, or what rules you break, Auntie 'Tunia does not have the right to hit you with a wire hanger."

"Didn't nobody ever hit you with a hanger?" Harry asked.

"Never," Draco replied. "Like I told you last night, everyone has bad dreams. Hitting you only makes them worse. From now on, I'm going to read you a bedtime story every night before bed."

Harry's face brightened. "Can we read the one about the beetles again?" he asked.

Draco chuckled, ruffling Harry's hair. "Which ever one you like," he said.

**TWO**

Hermione was rather surprised when Malfoy showed up at the Gryffindor table that morning and handed Harry over to her. "Will you watch him for a bit?" he asked, sounding most unlike himself. "I think it would be good for him to get to know you -- again."

"Of course," Hermione replied, perplexed.

Malfoy bent down and placed a little bag in Harry's arms. "There's parchment and crayons and quills and things in this bag," he said. "I want you to draw and color while Miss Hermione takes her classes. Be good, okay?"

" 'Kay," Harry replied quietly. "Draco?"

"Yes, Harry?" Draco asked, straightening Harry's shirt a little.

"When you comin' back?" Harry asked.

"I'll collect you at lunch, don't worry," Draco replied. "Miss Hermione and Mr. Ron were your friends when you were big, and I think you'll like spending some time with them."

" 'Kay." Harry said.

Draco sighed heavily. "Don't interrupt when Miss Hermione is in class."

" 'Kay," Harry said.

"And keep anything you draw so that I can see it later."

" 'Kay," Harry said again.

"Be good for Miss Hermione," Draco said, kissing the top of Harry's head gently. "I'll see you at lunch, and maybe we can go outside and play in the snow for a bit."

Harry brightened considerably at that. " 'Kay," he said once again.

Hermione frowned slightly. There was something off about Malfoy this morning, but, not knowing him well, she couldn't tell what it was. She decided to shrug it off for now until she had more information. "Are you hungry, Harry?" she asked, smiling when Harry turned in her lap to look at her.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "What can I have?"

Hermione gestured at the loaded table. "Whatever you like, dear," she said. Harry took some porridge and poured treacle over it. Hermione smiled. She'd always love her Harry.

**THREE**

Harry had his crayons out on the desk and a piece of the funny paper to draw on, but he was busy looking at the teacher. He was the smallest man Harry had ever seen. Harry was almost as tall as the teacher already, and everyone kept saying how he looked so small for a five-year-old. Harry wondered briefly if every five-year-old was apposed to be big like Dudders, but decided that he didn't want to know if they were. Everyone at Hogwarts (Her-my-knee had told him that's what the school was called) were big people, and he was just fine with that. If there weren't any other little boys, then no one would be picking on him. Draco had promised that no one here would hurt him, and he trusted Draco.

As he watched, the little man (who Her-my-knee called Professor Flitwick) began talking in a squeaky voice that Harry thought was funny. He looked down at his strange paper and picked up a blue crayon so he wouldn't laugh and hurt Professor Flitwick's feelings. He drew a wing, trying to remember what the dragons on Draco's robe had looked like.

"Today," Professor Flitwick was saying, "we will be learning spells designed to disable the wards we learned last term."

Her-my-knee was writing with a huge feather on one of the strange papers, the feather wiggling back and forth fast. Harry opened his mouth to ask her how come they wrote with feathers, but closed it again when he remembered Draco telling him not to interrupt when Her-my-knee was in class. Instead, he turned his attention back to the tiny man teaching the class, watching as a blue wall appeared around the big desk. The wall wasn't touching the desk, and it was see through. Harry's eyes were wide as he watched Professor Flitwick add more to the wall with his wand. The class quickly got boring after that, with not much magic going on, so Harry turned his attention back to his drawing.

After class, Ron picked Harry up to carry him to the next place. "Ron?" Harry asked, his little hands linked around Ron's neck so he wouldn't lose his balance and fall.

"Yeah?" Ron asked, shrugging his bag up higher on his other shoulder.

"How come everyone writes with those big feathers?" Harry asked.

On Harry's other side, Her-my-knee giggled.

"Huh?" Ron asked, looking at Harry curiously. "What, the quills?"

"What's that?" Harry asked.

Her-my-knee giggled again. "Quills are what we call the big feathers," she said with a smile.

"Oh," Harry muttered. "So how come you use them?"

"What else would we use?" Ron asked, looking at Her-my-knee.

"Oh, Ronald," Her-my-knee said. "Honestly." She looked at Harry again. "We use the quills because the magic makes pens go haywire."

"Oh," Harry said.

Ron was carrying him down a corridor with lots of people in it, headed toward the Green Lady's class. Harry reminded himself that the Green Lady's name was McGongal because Her-my-knee said that McGongal wouldn't like being called the Green Lady all the time, even though she only ever seemed to wear green.

"Her-my-knee?" he asked after a moment's silence.

"Yes?"

"What's 'haywire' mean?"

Her-my-knee giggle again. "You use it when something isn't working the way it's supposed to work."

"Oh," Harry said. Harry wondered why Her-my-knee giggled whenever he asked her questions, but decided she'd be mad at him if he asked _that_ question, so he kept it to himself. He didn't think she was laughing at _him_, so he let it go the way only small children seem capable of doing. "Is lunch after Transfigation?" he asked as they entered the classroom.

"Trans-fig-u-ra-tion, Harry," Her-my-knee corrected him gently. "And yes, it is."

"Trans-fig-u-ra-tion," Harry repeated as Ron set him in an empty chair. Harry missed Draco already, but he didn't want to say so because he was afraid someone would make fun of him. He liked most of the big people here, and he didn't want them to think he was stupid. One of the big people he didn't like was the dark man they called Snape. Her-my-knee said that Snape taught potions, and Harry would just as soon skip that class. He could tell that Snape didn't like him, but he didn't know how come. He didn't remember doing anything to make Snape mad at him, but grown ups were weird about why they got mad.

Harry liked the Transfiguration classes the best because they were always turning things into other things. Last time, when he'd come with Her-my-knee before he'd met Draco, they were turning each other into raccoons. Harry liked raccoons because he thought they were cute. He'd clapped excitedly when McGongal had turned herself into a cat, but the big people had laughed when he did that, so he'd decided not to do it again. He didn't like being laughed at. Today, they were trying to turn each other into puppies. Harry smiled. He liked puppies; they were cute.

**FOUR**

Draco was beyond livid by the time he'd finished his breakfast. The rage had slowly been simmering inside him as he contemplated what Harry had told him, and by the time he'd accosted Dumbledore in the entrance hall, it was at a slow boil.

"I'd like to speak with you, sir, if you don't mind," he said through his teeth, using every bit of control he had to keep his tone somewhere above a growl.

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment before replying. "Of course, Mr. Malfoy. If you'd just come up to my office." He turned toward the marble staircase, leading Draco at a brisk pace toward the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office. Once they were both seated on garish armchairs, Dumbledore said, "What can I help you with today?"

"I want Harry's pitiful excuse for a family arrested," Draco replied, gripping the arms of the chair hard in an attempt to keep from shouting.

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "Whatever for?" he asked pleasantly.

Draco, who was having a very difficult time controlling the rage that was trying to consume him, closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment before speaking. "Harry had a nightmare last night," he said calmly, not opening his eyes. "When I told him to come up on my bed, he sat with his back facing me and removed his nightshirt."

Dumbledore frowned but said nothing.

"He seemed to believe that he was in trouble because he'd woken me up," Draco went on. "I turned him to face me, and he began sobbing and apologizing for waking me. This morning, after we were both dressed, I asked him what happens when he has a nightmare at his aunt's house." He finally opened his eyes to pin a hateful glare on Dumbledore's withered face. "He said that she hits him with a wire hanger for daring to wake her up."

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment, before an aged and shaking hand came up to hide his face. "I didn't know that they were beating him," he murmured.

"Harry has also informed me," Draco pressed on, uncaring of the headmaster's guilt, "that his bedroom is a cupboard. He went so far as to stretch out in my wardrobe to show me how well he fit inside."

Dumbledore uttered a shaky sigh. "Minerva," he muttered, seemingly to himself. "Why didn't you _make_ me listen to you? Dear, merciful spirits, what have I done?"

Draco frowned deeply, wondering what Dumbledore was on about. After a moment, Dumbledore's hand dropped and he gazed at Draco with eyes that were terribly sad and impossibly old. "I was aware that Harry's family did not treat him well," he said. He held up a stalling hand when Draco opened his mouth to speak. "I was not aware, however, that their abuse was so severe. I imagine he's only told you a small part of it. I have every intention of pursuing this to the full extent of the law, but I must ask something of you."

Draco was instantly wary, but he only raised an eyebrow and waited.

"You must attempt to find out more," Dumbledore said. "Obviously, little Harry isn't going to be able to remember everything that happened to him over the sixteen years he lived there, but perhaps just the things before he turned five will be enough."

Draco nodded slowly. He'd been planning to find out more, whatever the headmaster had to say about it. The only problem now was how to go about attaining the information. Harry was very reluctant to speak of his family, but Draco knew that there had to be some way to coax it out of him. "I have a request of my own," he said after several minutes.

Dumbledore nodded, waving his hand in a circular gesture.

"I wish to spend this morning in Hogsmeade, or perhaps London, to purchase some things for Harry," Draco said. "His clothes are abominable, his shoes don't fit him, and I believe that he can't see anything. I would, therefore, request that either Madame Pomfrey or a qualified professional perform an eye exam to determine if Harry needs spectacles. I would also like to suggest that, because we don't know how long he might remain a child, he be provided with a governess who could teach him the basics: arithmetic, reading, writing, and so on."

Dumbledore nodded. "All of those things can be done," he agreed readily enough. He produced his wand and conjured a parchment, which he handed to Draco. "This is a pass to allow you off of school grounds until the end of the lunch period. I shall speak to Madame Pomfrey about an eye exam, and I will be spending the day looking for a suitable and trustworthy governess."

Draco nodded, slipping the pass into his pocket as he stood. When he reached the door, Dumbledore spoke again.

"Justice will be served, Mr. Malfoy," he said gravely. "The Dursleys will not go unpunished."

Draco turned his head to regard Dumbledore from the corner of his eye. "I hope they rot in Azkaban," he replied, stepping out of the office and closing the door without waiting for a reply. Mr. Filch accosted him briefly as he left the castle, but he made it away, Mr. Filch grumbling under his breath, probably disappointed that he couldn't punish someone. Fortunately, he found everything he would need in Hogsmeade, saving him the trip to London, which he hadn't wanted to make in the first place.

**FIVE**

Harry leapt into Draco's arms when he saw the blonde at lunch, babbling happily about all of the wonderful things he'd see in Transfiguration. Draco beamed proudly at him when he pronounced it right, and complimented him on his drawing when Harry presented it.

"Draco?" Harry asked once they were seated.

"Yes, Harry?" Draco replied, piling food onto a plate and setting it before Harry.

"Where we goin' next?" Harry asked.

"I have Potions next," Draco replied airily.

Harry frowned. He didn't want to go into Snape's class. "Can I stay with Miss Her-my-knee?" he asked.

Draco frowned at him, but he didn't look mad. "You may if you like, but she has Potions next as well."

Harry frowned harder. "What about Mr. Ron?" he asked. "Does he have Potions too?"

"Why don't you want to go to Potions, Harry?" Draco asked seriously.

Harry, afraid that he'd made Draco mad, lowered his head and didn't reply. " 'S nothin'," he muttered unhappily.

Draco gently lifted his chin with one finger. "Tell me why you don't want to go with me to Potions," he said.

Harry, who was fighting a losing battle over his tears, looked down with his eyes. "That Snape man doesn't like me," he muttered. "He'll get mad at me and yell."

"Oh, Harry," Draco sighed, pulling Harry into his lap and holding him gently. "Snape has… issues that he needs to work out. If he gets mad at you for no reason, I'll just get mad back at him."

Harry looked into Draco's sincere face. "Really?" he asked.

"Really," Draco replied.

Reassured, Harry turned to his lunch. "Draco?"

"Yes?"

"What does 'issues' mean?"

Draco chuckled a bit. "It means that some things have happened to him before, and he hasn't gotten over them yet."

"Oh," Harry said, eating his lunch at last.

Potions, Harry discovered, was a very boring and smelly class that he didn't like. He liked it even less because Snape was always glaring at him. He sat quietly at Draco's desk and didn't touch anything, not even to get out his funny paper and crayons, but Snape still looked at him like he thought that Harry was going to mess something up. By the end, he was happy to get away.

Draco sat Harry on his bed and removed several tiny bags from his pockets. He waved his wand at these, and they got bigger and bigger until there was a whole pile of things on the floor in front of Harry.

"Now, Harry," Draco said, bending down by the bags.

"I won't touch anything," Harry rushed to say. "I promise."

Draco looked up from the bag he was rummaging in to frown at Harry. "Why ever not?" he asked. "These things are for you."

Harry's eyes became very large. "All of it?" he asked shyly.

"Of course all of it," Draco replied. He held up a red jumper. "This certainly won't fit me."

Harry, whose eyes were brimming with happy tears this time, launched himself at Draco and hugged him hard. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he cried.

Draco rocked back when Harry hit him, and then regained his balance and returned the hug. "You're very welcome, Harry," he said fondly. After placing Harry back on his feet, he began showing him all of the new clothes he'd bought. He held up a shiny pair of black shoes. "These are just for special occasions, Harry," he said, setting them aside. "These," he went on, holding up a very black pair of trainers, "are for everyday wear and for playing. You are never to play in your special shoes, okay?"

" 'Kay," Harry agreed, just happy that he'd finally have a pair of shoes that didn't blister the backs of his feet when he walked in them too long.

Draco waved his wand, and all of the clothes went flying into the wardrobe. Harry stared after them.

"All right then," Draco said, drawing Harry's attention back. "Now for the good stuff." He picked up the last bag and held it upside down, and toys began pouring out of it. Harry's eyes widened as the pile of toys got huge.

"Wow," he whispered. "Is all of them for me?"

Draco made a strange face, but he said, "Yes, there are all for you."

Harry smiled, but when Draco spoke again in a serious tone, the smile slipped away.

"You are allowed to play with whatever toys you like," he said, "but must keep the room tidy. Once you are done playing, you must put your toys back where they belong, okay?"

Harry nodded, the smile coming back. He could do that. " 'Kay," he agreed.

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a very tiny, very colorful box. He set the box in a corner and flicked his wand at it, making it grow until it was ginormous. With another flick, all of the toys went sailing into the air and into the toy box, the room instantly neat again.

Harry clapped his hands enthusiastically. "Do it again!" he cried, giggling happily.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, the door opened and Snape came in. Harry scurried to hide behind Draco, peeking at Snape timidly from behind one of Draco's legs.

Snape, who had a very ugly look on his face, glared at him before looking up at Draco. "The headmaster wishes for you and the little imp to go up to his office immediately," he said.

Draco frowned. "He is not an _imp_, Professor Snape," he said angrily. "He's a little boy, and you'd do well to remember it."

Snape made an even uglier face and left the room, his long black robes puffing out in a scary way.

"Bastard," Draco muttered.

"Draco?" Harry asked as he was scooped into Draco's arms and carried out of the room.

"Yes, Harry?" Draco asked.

"What's 'bastard' mean?"

Draco seemed to choke on something before replying. "It's a bad word and you're not allowed to use it."

Harry frowned. "How come you can use it and I can't?" he asked.

"Because I'm not supposed to use either," Draco replied.

"Oh," Harry said with a giggle. " 'Kay."

* * *

**Thanks to…**

**Firestar **

**Starryone21**

**Missk**

**The Zedmeister – You are not the first one to ask for those stories back, but I have decided that they need to be rewritten before I'll post them again. To put it simply, I just don't feel that they're my best work. Once I feel that they're ready, I will repost. Thank you.**

**Bananagirl – Thank you so much! The reason I originally started making Harry the dominant in H/D stories is because all the stories I've read paint Draco as Mr. Domineering. I felt it was time Harry had a break. I'm happy to inform you that Dëlîgo Sanguis is under revisions right now (I had to re-write some of the racier scenes that were lost in the purge) and the first chapter should be going up soon. Hope to see you there!**

**GD**

**Jeni**

**Kazahaya**


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